Chapter 8 #2
The same hush that had enveloped the room when I entered the bar returned.
Tom, in particular, sat astonished.
Elena bit her bottom lip as her hand curled into a fist, then relaxed, then repeated the action. Cesar sat with his gaze fixed on me. He reached across the table and gently took my hand again.
“Artur, visions are tricky things. Sometimes what you see are hints or riddles of what is to come, or even what has passed,” Cesar said, attempting to soothe my unrest.
I fidgeted like a toddler.
“These aren’t visions,” Elena stated. She placed her palms down on the table and took a deep breath.
“They are only potential scenarios. Artur, you’re a chaos witch, right?
Your power is changing the inevitable or helping something improbable to come to pass.
You can adjust the future with the right guiding hand.
I don’t think you saw futures; I think you saw what may come to be, not what will happen. ”
“Well, that’s a relief,” I said.
“No, no it’s not. Not a single scenario you witnessed has a happy ending,” Elena stated with concern.
Tom nodded. “There’s enough walking dead around these parts.
We don’t need the Cinco de Diciembre Cemetery puking out its contents.
The black bride you saw was Mistress Magdalena, and her enchanting partner was her husband, Efraim.
And I’m sure you’re all aware of the ruin that befell the Hurtados?
Efraim was turned into a wight in an attempt to save the familial power.
” Tom cocked an eyebrow at that piece of information.
“Most are not aware that their disappearance from society for decades was because the community shunned them for that magical act. But people forget, and the Hurtados have a lot of patience. They’ve re-emerged over the last handful of years—just as terrifying as they were before.
“The last scene, Artur. You haven’t told us everything, but I’m guessing the dead overwhelm the Dia de Muertos celebrations and many die, including Cesar.
” Tom leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink.
Then he continued. “But more importantly, and if I’m not mistaken, the stone in your pocket, the black tourmaline, is a soul-bind crystal.
Once spoken of only in hushed whispers in the community and kept hidden.
Now, it appears it has been set free into the world so that Efraim, who, by the way, is your wight, could reclaim it and rebind himself to his love, Mistress Magdalena.
Death ruptures those bonds of marriage. Those two ruled this city for decades.
I know, I was here for it. It wasn’t pretty.
“The Hurtados want to rule this city again. Bringing back the power couple who once held this city in their thrall would give them that again. Trust me when I tell you, we do not want those dark times revisited. It was good for them, hell for the rest of us.” Tom frowned, as the bar listened.
“You cannot give this stone back to the wight. And you most certainly cannot reanimate Mistress Magdalena.” Tom instructed.
“I don’t have a choice,” Cesar admitted solemnly. “She’s threatened me with ruin and desolation if I don’t come through.”
“Of course. Bitch. Never did like her.” Tom’s fingers rapped angrily on the surface of the table. “One step at a time. We need to think how to get around this without getting caught up in their dark machinations.”
“There’s more,” I said.
“What could possibly make this worse?” Elena asked.
“Do you want me to tell them? Or should you?” I stared at Cesar.
He scowled and sighed. “Fine. The bone witch family curse has descended. I’m in the early stages of magical dementia.”
Elena curled her lips inward as the secret was set free, and Tom audibly gasped.
“But you’re too young. You should have years left before, you know…the worse comes to pass,” Elena reasoned.
“No. No, you’re not.” Tom shook his head, then gestured for another round of tequila.
“Unfortunately, this can happen young and quickly. You know it was your Tio Orlan who reanimated me? And I was the last one he did. I was the one who broke him. Cesar, you cannot go through with this. We cannot lose you. Not yet.” Tom placed a hand on Cesar’s shoulder.
“I had no idea.” Cesar pulled away.
“Please, it wasn’t my decision,” Tom frowned.
“I know. Reanimation is never done for the undead. It’s always the selfishness of the living that forces our hand to resurrect those who are lost to us.”
“True words,” Tom nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to still be here.
” Tom glanced toward the seat where Mike sat at the owner’s table.
“I’m thankful my bar, my legacy, and my time here have been extended.
” But then he glanced at a picture behind the bar.
“But I miss those who are no longer here. I had hoped to see them again.”
Cesar knew the picture Tom fixated on. “You know, there are things that can be done to end your time.”
Tom nodded. “I know.” He winked. “But others needed me, and I’m not unhappy. I will make sure I come see you when I’m done. But, in the meantime, we have a conundrum to fix. But first, we need to banish a wight, and I think I might have just the thing to do that.”
“Wait, really?” I asked, thinking in a heartbeat our problems would be solved.
“Oh, it won’t be nothing permanent. This is a wight we are talking about. One that has been around for many, many years. But being undead, and having lived for well over a hundred years, has given me some opportunities, and some trinkets.” Tom winked again. “One more shot, then come with me.”
Tom led us up a set of stairs at the back of the bar, hidden behind stacks of empty Corona cases. A closed door on the second level had a rounded top, and a brass doorknob clicked as Tom stuck a key in it and turned.
“Come.” Tom waved us all inside.
As we filtered into the room beyond the door, I was surprised to see a quaint but well-furnished apartment. Once again, I had entered a home of someone who was successful, and the furnishings and creature comforts reflected their prosperity. It left me feeling useless and rejected.
Cesar noticed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, “It’s a nice place, isn’t it?
I want you to take me to your place. I want to see it.
You should have some basic creature comforts of your own, and if you don’t, we’re going to work on getting those things for you.
” Cesar had whispered all this into my ear, but the way Tom stared at us, it was obvious he had caught the entire exchange.
He nodded—so slightly I doubted Elena would have noticed.
Tom rustled through a desk set near an inner courtyard window.
“Ah!” he grunted, hoisting a fist into the air. “Found the first one.” Then, he continued to dig through the top drawer.
I looked around, too. Pictures of a handsome man adorned every wall. It was the same face as the photo in the bar downstairs. It made me feel forlorn. Obviously a past lover who had meant the world to Tom.
“This is it!” Tom strode over to me and thrust a black velvet sack into my hand. The pouch was filled with what felt like sand, and the top was tightly sealed with thin silk rope.
“Thank you?” I wasn’t sure what else to say.
“It’s a banishment bag,” Elena offered.
I stared at her, confused.
“Didn’t your mentor—”
“A banishment bag is useful in many scenarios,” Cesar stated, interrupting Elena. “The sack contains black salt for protection, iron and silver shavings, sulfur, cremation ashes, and graveyard dirt. It’s said that combination will repel most undead, and even some shapeshifters.”
Elena eyed her old friend cautiously.
“Take it. We had some trouble with a few customers a couple of years back. They refused to leave. So, after a week of sitting at my table, I fixed the problem. Took me seven bags to finally get them back into the grave they crawled out of, but the problem got resolved. This was the leftover. Take it.” Tom nodded at me.
“Get rid of Efraim, if only for a little while. We need to come up with a solid plan to cut the legs out from whatever the Hurtados have planned.”
“This is dangerous.” Elena’s gaze darted between Tom, me, and Cesar.
“Of course it’s dangerous, girl. We’re talking about a wight. But I have faith in Artur. I know he can do this. I can feel his magic humming under his skin. There’s lots of potential there. Budding possibilities none of you have bothered to recognize.”
Tom ushered us back toward the door we’d come in through.
“I need to get back down to the Frida’s.
But Artur, I want you to come back and see me, often.
I have lots to tell you. You be sure to sit at my table when you come in.
We need to fix this reputation of yours.
Keep that wild magic of yours inside, though. ”
I nodded at him as I walked through the door and began descending the stairwell.
“And this is for you.” Tom handed Cesar a trinket. I didn’t see what it was. Cesar slipped it into his robe pocket. “I want you two to come back and visit me. I like this.” Tom waved a finger between the two of us. “I like it a lot.”